


Promise Me

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fever Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hell Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Sick Dean Winchester, Sickfic, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: Dean has an exceptionally high fever while Sam is on a food run and hallucinates about Castiel, believing that the angel is right beside him. (Takes place in Season 7)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Promise Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a one-shot that popped into my mind about Dean hallucinating because of a fever and missing Castiel after the events of the season 7 pilot. You can read it either as Destiel or them as friends. The story works either way depending on your preference. I just wanted Castiel comforting Dean when he’s sick even if it’s just in his mind. 
> 
> Mild warning for depictions of Hell hallucinations. 
> 
> Title is from the song Promise Me by the band Badflower

Teeth grit down.

Bones ached.

Muscles spasmed.

Skin burned hot to the touch.

Shivers racked his body.

Coughs bubbled from his gunk filled lungs.

Horror from Hell shown all around him.

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this sick. There was one time when he was a teenage he had walking pneumonia and it had been agony to take in a single breath. It had been awful, but Dean was sure whatever he was fighting now truly took the cake. 

He had started feeling rundown a couple days ago when interviewing some witnesses in another Leviathan case. Dean had fought through symptoms of chills and muscles aches as long as possible until the coughing started along with building congestion. That had been difficult for Dean to ignore and suppress. Sam had become tired of his throat clearings and groans, and sent him back to the motel to get some rest while Sam poked around a little more to find more information. Dean had tried to argue, but the throbbing behind his eyes had forced him to give in. Besides, he hadn’t slept well in God knows how long and he was looking forward to getting more than four hours of uninterrupted sleep.

That had been four hours ago and Dean was regretting his decision. He now laid sprawled on one of the queen beds in his thicket sweatshirt and only pair of sweatpants he owned. He had taken the comforter from Sam’s bed to bundle himself into the thick layers. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt colder with shivers making his whole body tremble. There had been a time when he had jumped into a half frozen lake after a victim that had been drug in by a water wraith, but at least after a warm shower he had warmed up. Dean had taken a nearly thirty minute shower and it did nothing besides make him damp and exhausted in misery.

Dean had always been prone to higher fevers, even due to something as trivial as a common cold could have him spike a fever of 103 and leave him listless for days. Dean always used to think that Sam was the one with the sucky immune system, yet it was always Dean that got hit the hardest. Sam would always say that it was due to Dean’s poor diet and strain that he put his body and immune system under. Dean would always wave him off with a scoff, but it seemed that Sam may have been right after all. 

Another body jarring cough forced it’s way from Dean’s lungs, causing him to lean forward into one of the rock hard pillows. Congestion now flowed freely from Dean’s right nostril, but the eldest Winchester was too tired to care. His thoughts were muddled as he churned his legs against the foot of the bed, tangling them in sheets and the comforters. Agony rifled through his body, pulsing down his spine and into his muscles before settling deep in his bones like stones at the bottom of a river. 

Dean could feel his body broil, skin threatening to melt from his body. He gritted his teeth together, feeling them almost splinter with the force Dean placed on his jaw. All he wanted was to drift off to sleep or loose consciousness, yet all Dean could think of was how much pain he was in. The gunshot wounds and stab marks that littered his body was nothing compared to this fever. 

“Sab? Sabby!” 

Dean’s voice was laced with congestion, softening his consonants when he tried to speak. His voice was hoarse, throat raw and red from all the coughing Dean had been doing. None of it made Dean seem particularly threatening, or lent his voice to carry very far. 

No one answered Dean’s frantic cry.

Dean sunk deeper into the mattress and covers, jaw tensed. “Sabby, please,” Dean whined. “Sabby!”

The high pitched whine turned into a low cough that started at the base of Dean’s lungs, spurting upward into his throat. Dean didn’t bother to cover his mouth due to no one else being in the room. Sam would bitch and whine if he was there, but Dean was too tired to care. 

When it was clear that calling for his little brother wouldn’t do anything, Dean tried the next name that was floating through his hazy thoughts. “Cas?”

Despite what Dean kept saying, Castiel never really left his mind. No matter what Dean felt or what happened during a hunt or even with Sam, Dean always wanted to share it with the trench coat clad angel. There had been plenty of times that he had prayed for Castiel after his death and half expected him to just show up like he used to. Each day the realization hit him again that Castiel was gone and no amount of praying or pleading could bring him back. Some days Dean could handle that and other times the mere thought of Castiel would send him into a blind rage. 

However, now as Dean laid in bed with a raging fever and aching bones, all he wanted was the stoic angel with his telltale head tilt and piercing blue eyes to be there beside him. There probably wouldn’t have been much that Castiel could do for him, but being there would’ve been enough for Dean. The comfort that Castiel possessed just by being there was unrivaled by anyone else besides Sam in Dean’s eyes. 

Blinking his eyes quickly, Dean squinted from under the layers of comforters to see gleaming red eyes shinning in front of him. A wicked grin showed on the face of a mutilated man with blood caking half of his face, jaw broken and twisted, and gashes with exposed flesh hanging off of him. It looked like he had been tortured for years and was a few moments away from breaking as he hovered over Dean. 

Terror pulsed through Dean as he rolled over to the opposite side of the bed. He clamped his hands over his ears, curling in on himself into a fetal position. “Dno, go away,” Dean croaked halfheartedly. “I’b dnot there.” Dean snuffled heavily. “Dnot Hell. Dnot Hell!”

Dean wasn’t sure how long he had laid curled in on himself while his nose running freely, and coughing shook his entire frame. Each cough send a fresh pulse of agony through his skull, intensifying his already thunderous headache. When the coughing fit finally tampered off, Dean risked peeling back the covers from his eyes a sliver to see if the face was still there.

Suddenly, a blinding light seemed to fill the room. Dean’s eyes instinctively closed, a hiss of pain leaving his lips. Hunkering back down under the covers, Dean peeled his lips back while grinding his teeth together. His hands lifted to his neck, squeezing as tightly as possible until he felt the prick of blood under his fingernails. 

“Dean?”

The sound of a gravely, deep voice had Dean more than willing to open his dark green eyes. He pulled the covers the rest of the way down to see gleaming blue eyes of light with an ebony black shadow of two majestic wings in front of him. The light began to fade, revealing the familiar ratty trench coat, white button down shirt, and crooked tie of the one person that Dean had wanted to see more than any other.

A whimper rolled in the back of Dean’s throat, causing him to cough weakly. He tipped his head upward, headache forgotten to take in the man in front of him. “C-Cas,” he stammered.

The angel in question kneeled beside the bed. His head tilted cautiously, liquid blue eyes gleaming in affection. “Dean,” he rumbled, a smile turning the corners of his mouth upward.

Dean closed his eyes momentarily, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. It did nothing for his congestion, which now flowed almost steadily from his nose. “Cas,” he breathed without opening his eyes again as if afraid that the angel would disappear like he always did. 

A gentle touch under Dean’s nose had him recoiling in shock. He opened his eyes to find that Castiel had used the corner of the sleeve of his trench coat to clean the mucus away. Horror showed on Dean’s face. He couldn’t let Castiel take care of him like this!

Dean clamped a hand over the lower half of his face as a fierce tickle sparked deep within his sinuses. His eyes jammed closed, body buckling forward. “HsSHew! HCrSHew! HRcSHew! HRchsSHew!” Dean kept his hand where it was, sniffling liquidly behind it.

A swish of feathers sounded and Dean jammed his eyes closed tightly, willing himself not to feel the feeling of loss pulsing through him now that Castiel had left. Of course he’d left. What had Dean expected? He was far from presentable like this and Dean didn’t blame Castiel at all for not sticking around.

Suddenly, he felt the presence again beside him. Something soft was being pressed against his hand. Opening his eyes slowly, Dean saw Castiel standing in front of him with a handful of tissues extended as an offering. Castiel didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to; Dean knew what he meant when he looked at him like that.

Dean took the tissues and cleaned himself up, blowing his nose thickly. He coughed weakly in the aftermath, crumpling the tissues into his fist and letting them fall onto the ground. “Cas,” Dean rasped tiredly. He could think of nothing more to say, despite his cloudy thoughts. “Cas.”

Patience shone deep within Castiel’s gaze. He stretched out his hand to thread his fingers through Dean’s spiky hair. Dean instinctively leaned into Castiel’s cool touch until his fingers kneaded at his forehead. A low hum left his lips, body relaxing into the touch.

“You’re hot,” Castiel assessed worryingly. 

Dean shrugged. “Thanks, I’b well aware,” he joked, coughing painfully afterwards into a raised fist.

Castiel didn’t seem to be fazed by Dean’s words. “And yet you are shivering,” Castiel replied, glancing at the layers Dean was under and how he was still shivering.

“M’cold,” Dean whimpered, snuggling down deeper into the covers.

Castiel didn’t hesitate to walk around the bed and climb in beside him. His body brushed against Dean as he reached over to grasp Dean’s shoulders in strong hands. Dean didn’t even fight it as Castiel hauled him over so that his head was rested onto his lap on a pillow. Dean turned, curling around Castiel with his arms wrapped around him. The man’s warmth began to soothe his aching muscles and throbbing bones. The fever continued to make him shiver while congestion made it nearly impossible for Dean to breathe through his nose, but somehow none of that mattered.

“Cas, I—“

“Hush,” interrupted Castiel. His voice was stern, abrupt. It didn’t leave any room for argument. “Relax and get some sleep.” 

Dean wanted to say more, but none of it seemed to matter as the moment. His eyes struggled to remain open as Castiel resumed threading his fingers through Dean’s hair, kneading his scalp. The angel began to murmur something that Dean guessed was Enochian. He had never told Castiel this, but he had always enjoyed when Castiel spoke in Enochian. It never ceased to soothe him in a way that nothing else ever could.

The presence of Castiel combined with the repetitive moments of his fingers against Dean’s head, as well as the humming, was enough to finally lull Dean off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam arrived back a few hours later tired and agitated. None of the leads had panned out and he felt even more at a loss for tracking the Leviathans. He just hoped that Dean had done better than he had. 

Once Sam swung open the door of their motel room, he found his brother sleeping, snoring softly. He grinned in amusement before he realized that Dean seemed to be hugging something protectively to his chest. The younger hunter walked around to Dean’s bed quietly as though not to wake him. He glanced in the semi-darkness to see Dean wrapped tightly around something flowing and tan, cheek pressed against it so that his face was almost buried within. It only took Sam a moment to realize what it was.

It was Castiel’s trench coat.

Dean had kept the tattered item just in case Castiel came back. Sam didn’t want to be the one to tell his brother that it wasn’t a possibility. They had both seen Castiel walk into the lake and be consumed by the Leviathans. Still, Dean hadn’t lessened on the hope that Castiel would return to them someday. Sam knew how it had effected his brother and how much sorrow he carried what had happened, even though it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes Sam even swore that Dean called out for the angel in his sleep, but snuggling with his trench coat was a whole different thing. Then again, fevers did make Dean do some strange things. 

Sam gingerly sat on the end of Dean’s bed, watching the way that Dean held onto the trench coat for dear life while a look of bliss passed over his face. The only way that would happen was if Dean was thinking of the angel.

“I know, man,” Sam whispered, patting one of Dean’s feet comfortingly. “I miss him too, but I’m still here. I know I’m not Cas and I never will be.” Sam sighed, pressing his lips together in sorrow. “But, I’m going to do everything that I can to help you, even without Cas with us. This doesn’t end here for us. We need to stop the Leviathans and hopefully avenge Cas in the process.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a nice little story to write. It really pulled on my heartstrings the way that Bobby and Sam talked about how much Dean missed Castiel even after everything went down with the Leviathans. I hope you all enjoyed the story and are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
